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By: Feign~

We find delight in colors bright
though time has made the edges blur.
More apt are we to linger, stroke a petal
and though short of breath, inhale the delicate scent,
I remembrance of a collection of crystal flasks
in various stages of empty or full,
all mimicking natures effortless perfection.
.
As I bend, pain comes
more and more demanding and distracting.
I have to pay the piper, and he is demanding,
relentless, and it feels unkind,
but I am on this lonely journey
in translucent skin, that tears easily
I never thought releasing my soul would hurt,
but
it
does.
It hurts like hell, make it go away.
.
Feign